Time for a Change

For the sake of all things holy, I've decided it's time for a haircut.  I have been desperately clinging to a few long, thin, scraggly strands in hopes of fooling someone, anyone, into believing I'm under 50.  Obviously it hasn't been working.  And if it had, isn't that false advertising?  Some poor chap, just walking along minding his own business, sees this "hot young thing" walking in front of him, struggles to catch up and then turns nonchalantly to see the goddess he just passed, and -- HORROR! -- not only isn't she a goddess, she's a senior citizen!  The tease is over.  Yes, I'm old.  And so not hot.

And on that note, I was doing my weekly walk-through at Costco, granddaughter in tow, when I see this man giving me a look.  At first I thought maybe he was trying to figure out how someone as old and frail as me could be walking unassisted, but then he looked up, actually tried to make eye contact, and smiled.  Not the standard, "Whoops, I've been caught staring at the old lady with inappropriately long hair" smile, but an actual flirty sort of smile.  As I later told my husband (heck, yeah I'm telling him if some dude looks twice at me!), at first I thought maybe he was just being nice.  But based on my (much earlier) life experiences, this guy was staring to the point it was almost creepy.  To a normal person.  I'm not normal.  I'm menopausal.  And I liked it.